


cradlesong of your leaving

by mylifeincoffeespoons



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: 1980s Korea, Activist! Jeno, Chun Doo-Hwan Regime, Farmer! Jaemin, Korean Student Movement, M/M, Military dictatorship, Police Brutality, State Sanctioned Torture, The Old Garden by Hwang Sok-Yong
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-16 14:42:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17551646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylifeincoffeespoons/pseuds/mylifeincoffeespoons
Summary: November 1983 (Gangwon-do, SK) - On the run from the police for his involvement in the student democratization movement, Lee Jeno is offered a temporary safehouse in the form of a professor's son, who takes him in for the winter. In a valley hidden by mountains and isolated by snow, Jeno finds the utopia he yearns for might already exist after all.Inspired by The Old Garden by Hwang Sok-Yong





	cradlesong of your leaving

**Author's Note:**

> -This fic is largely inspired by the novel The Old Garden by Hwang Sok-Yong. The circumstances in which the protagonists of that novel and Jeno and Jaemin meet are the same. Although the novel is quite context-heavy, I don't think prior historical knowledge is needed to understand the fic (or at least...I tried to make it that way?)  
> -The title is from the poem "Monument" by Mai Der Vang, from the lines "one cradlesong of your leaving/cannot be larger than the forest of your arrival."  
> -Jaemin comes in the next chapter and is only mentioned here.  
> -Warning: Fairly Graphic Descriptions of (Imagined) Torture and Death; References of Police Brutality (please check the tags, it is rated M for the violence)  
> \- Thank you very much to my beta M, who always works hard and is truly a gift; also R for waiting patiently--my first nomin fic! finally. ; ;

For all that Jeno only attends about a third of the lectures he’s expected to go to (and that was already a generous estimate), he has to admit that it was easy to picture a life where he does exactly as he’s supposed to.

 

Without the need to get up at six in the morning to beat the morning staff to the newspaper room where the ink for the leaflets were stored, he could laze in bed until eight, or eight thirty if he skipped breakfast. Hours would be spent inside the lecture halls taking notes, instead of sitting on the floor of a dusty old clubroom writing calls to action with fellow organization members or sneaking into the science building across campus to use their letterpress for pictures. Then, as the sky darkened, he’d be one in a crowd of students, rushing over to the student center or the gymnasium for club--a sports club, maybe even a varsity team, like in high school when he’d been in the track and field club. Practice would end late, the team would order jajangmyeon, or maybe go to an actual restaurant; the one across the street that was famous for their chicken. He wouldn’t have to take the bus from campus to the old warehouse where the night classes were held to deliver books and notes. A round trip to the warehouse would take more than an hour to complete--leaving him with barely enough time to make it back to his dorm before curfew, since it was located at the border of the university and factory districts. Without the trip he wouldn’t have to risk breaking curfew. In fact, he’d probably be in bed by curfew, stomach full and muscles pleasantly sore, ready to do the same thing again tomorrow.

 

He thinks of that life, that Jeno, sees him sit down at the exact seat he’s occupying now (front row because of his nearsightedness, but closest to the door to avoid the rush at the end of class), settling down on him, inside of him. He goes through the same motions Jeno does, pulling out a notebook and a pen from his bag, opening it to a clean page, pushing his black rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose as he looks at the professor. For a moment the two Jenos merge, and that life and his own converge like an eclipse.

 

Shouts from outside bounce against the half-shut windows. The martial banging of a drum that signals the protest scheduled just half an hour earlier has devolved into a skirmish, students dispersing like ants into the safety of their hole. The faint scent of tear gas ( _Tear gas doesn’t have a scent, according to chemists,_ Donghyuck says, weeks into freshman year and fresh from a fight after glaring down at an upperclassmen two times his size, who had called activists the plague of society. _Shows you what they know._ ), acrid like bleach, permeates the room. It’s too weak to really sting the eyes, but a slight burn in the nose causes some girls to press handkerchiefs against their mouths, while others move their hands closer to their noses, rubbing it as reflex. No one reacts more than this, the faint scent so ubiquitous it’s as commonplace as the sunlight streaming in from the windows. In front of them, the professor drones on.

 

Jeno’s mouth flattens, keeping a conscious effort to train his gaze on the professor and resist the temptation to glance outside. He tries to concentrate on what the professor is saying. It’s a basic Philosophy course, mandatory for all freshmen. He’d gone to all the lectures for the first two weeks or so, when they were discussing the Greeks. Then, things picked up at the organization and he’d average about one meeting per two weeks, so everything after that was spotty. They were on Nietzsche now, whom Jeno was already familiar with. _Beyond Good and Evil_ was one of the required readings at the organization, and Doyoung had him finish that list by the time he graduated high school.

 

Of course, if Jeno had known that Doyoung would continue to treat Jeno like a high schooler who needed permission for everything, then Jeno might not have let Doyoung get so used to it. Flashes of the argument ( _disagreement_ , the Doyoung in his head corrects, diplomatic as always) they had a few nights ago reminds Jeno that he still has to talk to Doyoung before the week is up, clear the air between them before they go to back to the house for the weekend, where their parents would inevitably sniff out any lingering tension between them. Still, Jeno knows that if he gives in now and contents himself with printing and making leaflets, it will only make it harder for Doyoung to allow him to take part in other activities later on. He knows that Doyoung is trying to be cautious, especially after the recent crackdown that lead to the arrest of students from the neighboring university, but to Jeno it was all the more necessary to act and make a stand for the sake of their fellow students. All things considered, he thinks that his request had been reasonable enough -- to distribute and plaster flyers at areas with heavy foot traffic. Yes, some areas were more dangerous than others, like the industrial or municipal areas of the city, but Jeno could steer clear of those and be assigned to student populated or commercial areas instead. Jeno knows that the assignments were on a rotation basis, so it wasn’t like he’d be out every day, either.

 

All of these carefully built arguments fell on deaf ears, even when Doyoung pretended to listen. Jeno knows this because he knows his brother, and he knows the face Doyoung makes when he’s only humoring the other person and has already made up his mind about the issue regardless. Ten called it his mule face. Johnny said it was his attempt at being polite. Usually, Jeno would agree with Johnny, because his brother has always had a temper and reigning it in is in fact a sign of respect he doesn’t always give to the other party, but now he’s more inclined to agree with Ten, at least in this case. What had Doyoung expected to happen when he joined? Was he going to confine him to the empty dorm room writing and printing flyers all day? What about when Jeno becomes a sophomore and is allowed to join an “agitator group” and participate in the weekly street demonstrations (as per the organization’s rules)? Would he going to stop Jeno from doing that, too?

 

“Now, imagine this…” the professor says, waving his hand in a motion that reminds Jeno of the swirling leaves outside, drawing his eyes to it. “What if some day or night a demon were to steal after you into your loneliest loneliness and say to you: 'This life as you now live it and have lived it, you will have to live once more and innumerable times more; and there will be nothing new in it, but every pain and every joy and every thought and sigh and everything unutterably small or great in your life will have to return to you, all in the same succession and sequence…”

 

Jeno frowns. Everything? Exactly the same, again and again? It sounded...awful. And boring.

 

“This is from Nietzsche’s idea of Eternal Recurrence. Now your reaction to this question will be very telling about the way you have lived your life so far…”

 

The edge of his thumbnail wedges itself between Jeno’s teeth as he mulls it over. Did his immediate dislike at the idea mean that he wasn’t satisfied with the life he’d had so far? But of course, there were many things to be unsatisfied about; the current regime and its corruption, the reeducation camps, the murderer cum dictator who lords over the people with his battalion of soldiers...

 

_Being an activist means believing in a better world,_ Doyoung had once said, when Jeno had first asked why Doyoung joined the organization, weeks after the police interrogation that left Doyoung with a black eye and Jaehyun with a split lip. _But more than that, it’s believing in the power of the people to pull that world closer with their own two hands._

 

Jeno had thought that meant that activists would be driven by a natural dissatisfaction with themselves and the world around them, but he hadn’t understood what was at stake until he’d seen the tapes from Gwangju, about the truth of the regime and what it was capable of. Then it had felt like it was an obligation to see that better world into fruition, because to live as they were now meant to abide by an unconsciolable system, and if he did nothing then that better world would only slip further and further out of reach.

 

Class ends and students mill out of the room, headed for their next class or extracurricular activities. The other Jeno gets up to leave as well, until the only ones that remain are Jeno and the professor, who is cleaning his glasses as he looks out the window. Jeno wonders what that other Jeno would have gotten from this lecture. Would he also shudder at the idea of living the same life over and over again? Or would he be content with the thought that he was living his life as he should, and trust that it was the life he was meant to live, again and again?

 

Regardless of the answer, Jeno guesses it would be useless to him. He isn’t that Jeno, and that life doesn’t belong to him. There’s only the life he’s lead, and the resolve that has steered him up to this point. He imagines the demon, looking at him behind black rimmed glasses, asking him, “Do you desire this life again, as you have lived it?”

 

Jeno has no idea, but he knows himself well enough to remove one possible reason he’d end up saying no. He only hopes that Doyoung would understand.

 

\---

 

Doyoung has warned him time and time again that knowing something and experiencing it were two very different things. Jeno knows, they all know, about what the police have been doing behind the bars of certain prisons. He knows that even simple interrogations can go horribly wrong, and that getting slapped around during one is an experience that more and more people are sharing. He knows that many people have gone missing, vanishing without a trace, “enemies of the state” and “state of emergency” the only explanation the authorities can offer. He knows, until he doesn’t.

 

In the early autumn of Jeno’s second year in university, Doyoung goes missing. Ostensibly he’s been missing since Thursday evening, since that was the last anyone has seen of him, but Jeno only finds out the following night when Jaehyun comes to their house. Jeno, who has been staying at their parents’ house while his ankle heals from the sprain he’d gotten in the demonstration the week before. From the top of the stairs, he watches as Jaehyun kneels in front of his parents. As he bows lower, errant hair strands brushing against the wooden floor, Jeno’s hands clamp on the balusters in an effort to keep them from violently shaking, needing to tether himself and regain balance as he feels the world tip over. The back of his mom’s spine curves as she urges Jaehyun to sit up. His dad’s back stays rigid and stiff. Jeno wants to reach for it, settle a hand on his dad’s shoulder, or wrap an arm around his mother’s, guide her back until she would be sitting straight again. But he doesn’t think he would make it down the stairs or survive the look on their faces. Or maybe they wouldn’t survive his.

 

In the end, Jeno limps back to his room, and waits for Jaehyun to come. Nal and Seol are sleeping on the bed, and he curls his body around them, closing his eyes as he concentrates on listening for Jaehyun’s footsteps going up the stairs. Jaehyun always treads lightly compared to Doyoung, and he doesn’t drag his feet like Johnny or Mark, so he’d have to strain his ears to hear it. Even behind closed eyes, the ceiling light burns bright. Thoughts of Doyoung and where he could have ended up (an abandoned building, bare cement walls and floor, kneeling with his hands tied, a sneering policeman, head haloed by a white light, looming over him like a vulture, leg swinging like a death knell-- _no no no stop it don’t think it_ ) sets Jeno’s muscles on edge like a livewire. Zaps of pain pulsing through his ankle distracts him from the images tormenting him, bringing him back to the present. The persistent silence rings in his ear until finally he picks up the muted footfall from the hallway outside.

 

The knock comes just as he’s sitting up, and in a split second decision Jeno tugs at the blanket to fall from his lap to the floor, concealing his legs so as not to draw attention to his sprain. Jaehyun enters, eyes bloodshot and cheeks gaunt like a ghost. He steps into the room but doesn’t approach Jeno, looking at him with an expression that Jeno now recognizes as haunted. The faces in the pictures he prints, the missing and the dead of Gwangju, have made Jeno familiar with the hundred yard stare that hides bottomless depths of grief.

 

(Doyoung with unseeing eyes, dumped in a heap of bodies transported in a truck, disposed of in a field miles away from the city-- _how could this be? It makes no sense._ )

 

“Jeno.” Jaehyun’s gaze is opaque and heavy on Jeno’s skin. “Doyoung has gone missing.”

 

Before this moment, Jeno has witnessed both Jaehyun and his brother utter similar words to other organization members, sometimes even to their families (when the risk of contact to the family is minimal). Johnny can’t do it, so Doyoung and Jaehyun take turns like the passing of a baton, Jaehyun in impassioned speeches during meetings like a conductor with his bow, Doyoung in private meeting places with two or three members, managing their grievances and coordinating feelings like a concertmaster. Jeno observed them with the intention of learning how to one day do it himself, to break the news without breaking down, to look someone in the eye and tell them their worst nightmare has come true. He knew, of course, that there was a possibility that he or Doyoung could go missing, that he or his brother would be on the receiving end of the exact same message one day.

 

He knew, until he didn’t.

 

(Strapped in a chair, legs in a basin of water, wires wrapped around his wrists. Strung upside down from the wall, open wounds dripping blood like a loose faucet. Why did Doyoung have to tell him all this? _To show you what they’ve done. To prepare you for what they’re capable of.)_

 

“When was he last seen?” Jeno asks, trying to focus despite the millions of thoughts racing through his head. He and Doyoung haven’t spoken since the start of the week, when Doyoung left the house for school, and most of the conversation consisted of Doyoung warning Jeno to stay off his feet for at least another week. He was unhappy -- not at Jeno, but the situation in general, and he repeatedly said that their mom would be watching in case Jeno tried to speed up his recovery. It annoyed Jeno enough to threaten Doyoung with putting Bongsik in his room, where Bongsik would inevitably leave scratch marks all over Doyoung’s door. Doyoung finally got the message and left with one last stern look out the door.

 

Realistically speaking, a lot of things could have happened. He could have gotten into an accident and was at the hospital, but they would have called already since Doyoung had his ID on him, unless something happened to his ID and he was unconscious until now. He could have been arrested, but if he was taken by the unit from Namsan then it was unlikely that his arrest would be made public until much later.

 

“Yesterday, we met up in the evening for a meeting at the dorm,” Jaehyun informs him. “It was already pretty late, but Doyoung wanted to go to the warehouse to see if we had enough storage room for the Molotov cocktails to use at the embassy next Tuesday, because then we’d have to look for another storage space. When he didn’t come back by curfew, we assumed he’d either sleep there or stay at one of the study rooms to pass the night, but he didn’t come to classes the next day, and he had a test that morning that I knew he couldn’t skip. We started looking for him at the usual places, but when we couldn’t find him, we asked the professors to help search the police stations. You know the last demonstration had them tightening their net -- publishing wanted lists in the newspaper and increasing the crackdowns.”

 

Jeno nods to cover the drops of discomfort coalescing at the growing pace of Jaehyun’s words, like the agitated drumming of fingers against a tabletop. The protocol for the missing is to check the hospital, the local police station and the morgue before telling the other members or the family. Doyoung has explained this to him before, even though he had never been assigned to that duty.

 

(Stopped on his way back to campus, a plainclothes policeman searches his clothes and body. He breaks into a run, sensing something is wrong, but more policemen show up, cornering him in an alley. They kick him to the ground, push his face against the dirt as they handcuff him. _No one is safe, Jeno. They will take anyone they want, slap the label of Commie as an excuse and demand silence from those who know otherwise.)_

 

“Maybe they chased him and he went underground,” Jeno suggests, remembering the other possibility that Doyoung mentioned. It wasn’t an impossible idea; if he did decide to do that then he wouldn’t contact any of them anyway, since it isn’t safe. The first rule of going underground or on the run is to cut off all ties immediately until the heat dies down. Anyway, Kun was the only one who would know, since other members aren’t allowed to learn of the runaways’ names except for the one in charge of them. Jeno’s heard of instances when people who had disappeared and were believed to be dead would steal into their family’s houses at night several years later to tell them that they were safe, or if they didn’t appear then their family would hear from the grapevine that they were in this or that province.

 

The idea that Doyoung is on the run, that he managed to evade the policemen and outsmarted their tactics (he’s devised escape routes for different layouts before, carefully drawn and marked in his notebook) comforts Jeno greatly, because it is definitely better than being caught. And Doyoung, while not necessarily cut out for hard labor, would be able to find contacts in the city to get himself a job. Jeno’s only worry is that even dressed in a worker’s suit it would be hard to shake off that intellectual air about Doyoung, and that would somehow tip off the people around him. But no, Doyoung is smarter than that, and would take all the precaution needed.

 

“It’s a possibility,” Jaehyun says guardedly, crossing the distance of the room to sit on the chair by Jeno’s bed. He flattens his palm against Jeno’s shoulder, a strong steady weight as he looks at Jeno carefully. “Either way, Doyoung will be gone for a long, long time. Do you understand?”

 

The gentleness, which Jeno hasn’t seen Jaehyun show since Jaehyun was in high school, sporting a face like a dimpled apple, reminds him so strongly of his brother (the emotional mother hen of the group, they always say) that Jeno is unable to stop his lips from quivering. The blanket is a crumpled mess underneath Jeno’s trembling fists, and Jaehyun looks away to afford Jeno the time to compose himself.

 

(In the end, there are only two scenarios. Did he escape (life) or did he get caught (death)?)

 

Without proof of either, Jeno knows which he’d pick. What else can he do?

 

“As long as there is no body, I won’t mourn him,” Jeno informs him, chin raised stubbornly. “On his wits alone he’ll probably outlive us all.”

 

(And if he doesn’t...)

 

The statement cracks a smile out of Jaehyun, though it withers and falls just as quickly as it came. “Now that Doyoung is not around, you are the only son of your family.”

 

The reminder of his parents and of his dad’s spine that was like the trunk of an aged tree drives a long needle into his gut. His mom used to wonder if destiny had gotten the birth order mixed up, because usually the first son would be the dutiful, obedient son and the second son would be the troublemaker with a strong pride and tall ambitions. Instead, Doyoung was the one who entered law school while Jeno was more inclined to the handiwork of the sewing factory that his dad manages, and it was this reversal of roles that their dad never failed to point out to visiting relatives, calling Jeno the “good son” and laughing a deep, full belly laugh whenever Doyoung inevitably lost his temper and complained. Now, it seems like a cruel joke, that the role Jeno’s temperament was more suited towards would be passed on to him somehow by default.

 

“My parents… I’ll talk to them. But I won’t quit the organization.” Jeno says, already anticipating the question. Despite his conviction, the pang of guilt resounds in his chest. His parents had not fought Doyoung too hard on his decision to join the organization, having gotten used to his ways. Their mom had simply said that it seemed to be what all the intellectuals were doing and not to do anything dangerous alone. Their dad said that the whole cause was as futile as parents trying to fight their children. Jeno himself never told them straightforwardly that he had joined, but at the dinner after Jeno’s high school graduation, their dad told them to look after each other, and Jeno knew that they both knew.

 

“If your parents become childless, it is your burden to carry.” Jaehyun doesn’t seem to be interested in offering any advice beyond that, not that Jeno really expects him to be. They are all intimately familiar with the shame and guilt they bring to their family, the grief outlined in their parents’ faces, the prolonged mourning for the walking dead. It’s just another cross for them to carry.

 

“Regardless of where Doyoung might be, we’ll be acting on the basis that he’s in custody. With Doyoung gone, the bookkeeping will be done by Taeil. The operations for the next two weeks are on hold. And… Mark will take care of some shifts at the night school.”

 

The last change makes Jeno pause. “Mark will?” Jeno’s only known graduate students to lecture in the night schools. He thought it was policy that the members must have completed a degree to qualify.

 

“Yes. He and Donghyuck have both gotten familiar enough with the people and the lectures to do it.” Jaehyun’s voice or gaze doesn’t waver, but Jeno knows him well enough to spy a shade of uncertainty in his expression. Unlike Doyoung’s caution with Jeno, Jaehyun’s approach with Mark was much more immersive, and it was fairly clear that Jaehyun expected Mark to perform at the same capacity as him by the time he graduated. In first year Jeno envied the way Jaehyun believed in Mark, but now he sees that Jaehyun simply makes decisions for the good of the organization, at any personal cost. It also speaks of how stretched thin the organization is currently, that Jaehyun would ask Mark to do it.

 

Truthfully, Jeno doesn’t know how many members are even in the organization, and is only fairly familiar with the ones still in university and would attend the same meetings and demonstrations as he did. Doyoung had told him that it was safer that way. Anyway, even Doyoung didn’t know everyone either, and Doyoung had started bookkeeping as soon as he entered law school. Which means that the student leg of the network must be a small component of a much larger web that no one is totally aware of.

 

(If he doesn’t…)

 

“I want to do more, too.”

 

The words come out of Jeno before he even realizes what he’s saying. Jaehyun’s lips thin, but he doesn’t seem at all surprised. Then again, he was there when Jeno was convincing Doyoung to let him distribute leaflets last year. Jeno knew that Doyoung wouldn’t just allow him to do it, so he waited until he heard that someone had gotten injured. Then, he volunteered to fill in the role while they healed. He was paired with the injured member’s former partner in distributing flyers--Hyena noona, who always chewed gum and slapped Jeno’s shoulder really hard every time he mentioned the trot singer she liked. That was how he got to distribute flyers for a few months, and when that stint finished, he got caught up in demonstrations downtown until Doyoung rolled his eyes and told him to stop taking him for a fool and put him in an agitator group. Unlike the larger protests that weren’t necessarily organized by the organization (and therefore, Doyoung couldn’t stop him from going to those even in his first year), an agitator group had weekly demonstrations at strategic points in the city. Also, unlike the protests that were planned to be peaceful, the hit-and-run demonstrations were meant to be the opposite; several students would stop traffic and cause chaos by chanting slogans and distributing leaflets, which was why many of the students were armed with Molotov cocktail bottles and other improvised weapons. Jaehyun raised his eyes approvingly when Doyoung said this, in a way that made Jeno think he was secretly impressed with Jeno’s machinations.

 

“What is it you want to do?” Jaehyun asks.

 

“To be a combat commander-- not yet, of course,” Jeno continues hastily at the incredulous flicker of Jaehyun’s eyes. “Jinyoung is doing a great job of it. I’ve been learning a lot from her, and before I got injured I’d been helping her with the bookkeeping for the group. I’ve also been doing the bulk of the leaflet printing and Molotov making since she started handling the group from the other university. But I’ve thought about it, and I want to be more active during the demonstrations, too. So I was thinking that maybe I could become a runner.”

 

Runners were usually groups of five that lead the group from the first demonstration point to the second one, then to the third until the final point, with smaller groups breaking off and reaching different points at different times to confuse the police. The relay demonstration was a tactic to minimize getting caught by the police and maximize the activity at the different areas of a district in one demonstration. The lead runner was also the leader of the demonstration, and the combat commander was in charge of protecting him. Runners were considered to be one of the more dangerous roles in the agi group, because police intercepting them almost always bring them in for interrogation since they’re assumed to know the paths and schedules of the demonstrations. Until now, Jeno had only been one of many demonstrators, and although there was always the risk of getting injured in the thick of it (like he had with his ankle) since they employed a “time relay attack” that had them highly mobile and less likely to get caught by the police.

 

“You did run track in high school,” Jaehyun says consideringly, crossing his arms. Jeno nods. As with Doyoung, the important part was to show how his choices were the logical decisions to make, anyway, and ultimately beneficial to the organization and their cause.

 

(If he doesn’t…)

 

Now that Doyoung is missing, Jeno will have to prove himself capable. Mentioning the combat commander position, usually only filled by graduate students who’d already completed their military service, would show that Jeno is also thinking of his position in the long-term, and that the experience he’s building is directed towards a role that will be an asset to the organization.

 

Jaehyun says that he’ll think about it and that until then, Jeno should focus on recovery. Jeno can see that Jaehyun has already given in, because he knows Jaehyun and the expression he makes when he’s about to do something that he knows Doyoung wouldn’t approve of. He’d seen it enough times throughout middle school and high school. And even though Jeno knows that Doyoung would also be angry at Jeno, too, he tamps down the guilt. This was where he was headed for anyway, regardless of whether Doyoung was there to express his disapproval.

 

Jeno watches Jaehyun leave. He closes his eyes, keeps his mind blank like a white canvas. Still, the faces of the victims in the leaflets come unbidden, their eyes robbed of life. He thinks of Jaehyun’s eyes, and how lately it’s getting harder and harder to tell any difference.

 

(Then Jeno will avenge him.)

 

\---

 

Autumn had swelled in the trees lining the streets by the time Jeno’s ankle fully healed and he was able to start his role as a runner for the weekly demonstrations. The activity gave him something to focus on, and the burn got rid of the restlessness he felt whenever he thought of Doyoung somewhere out there (Was he still in Seoul or somewhere else? What job did he manage to get? What sort of place was he sleeping in? Could he afford more than one meal a day?) and his parents’ silence, pregnant with unspoken pleas that he just go to classes. He makes more of an effort to attend lectures when there’s time, as if that would count towards all the hardships he owes them. He knows that it’s more of a way to assuage the guilt he feels more than anything else, but he does it anyway.

 

All the activity and purpose he drowns himself in comes to a screeching halt at the beginning of November, when Jaehyun comes to Jeno’s dorm building and informs him that the police barged into their parents’ house to question them.

 

“They asked where hyung was?” Jeno presses on as soon as Jaehyun confirms that neither of his parents are hurt. They swiftly walk to the manga club room where members usually meet. “So he’s on the run?”

 

“It’s likely,” Jaehyun affirms, and the taut wire inside Jeno’s gut uncoils. “We don’t know for sure. You know there are cases when the unit at Namsan doesn’t inform the local police of their detainees, but with the recent crackdowns, they’ve been working in tandem more often than not.”

 

“Okay.” Jeno closes the door behind them. He feels out of breath despite the fact that they’d walked for only ten minutes at most. “That’s-- okay.”

 

“But there’s another issue. They were looking for you, too.”

 

Jeno stares blankly at Jaehyun. A ringing in his ears makes him glance at the windows, and wonder if there was another protest. He doesn’t remember one being scheduled today.

 

“Did they have a warrant?” If they did, they’d probably close in on the university to find him soon.

 

“They had one for Doyoung, but it seems like they were only planning to bring you in for interrogation.” Jaehyun’s eyebrows are knit with tension, his movements stiff as he motions for Jeno to sit down next to him.

 

A shiver travels down Jeno’s spine. He’d never been interrogated before. He remembers the split lip and bruised eye that Jaehyun and Doyoung sported in high school. Some other members of the group who were caught by police during a demonstration came to school with similar injuries, while others had to stay at the hospital or clinic for a while.

 

Going home now is impossible, as it was risky for his parents and the house was probably under watch. Staying in the university would be like being a pig kept in its pen, but the only other option…

 

“Underground,” Jeno whispers. He stares at the hands on his lap, unable to meet Jaehyun’s gaze burning the side of his face. Doyoung… not even two months after him, Jeno would become a runaway like his brother?

 

“It’s the safest option. We don’t know what they’ll do once they have you, and even if they don’t get the proof they need, they’ll make up other reasons to detain you.”

 

Jeno turns to face him, unable to keep the fear from showing. “My brother lent me the book for runaways back in high school.” It had been translated into Korean, since the original author was a European who used his experiences during the revolution to come up with a set of rules that would help the runaway escape to safety. It has been three years since Jeno last read it, but he’s thought of it a lot in the past two months, and found himself reviewing the rules randomly while waiting for the bus or eating. The first was to cut contact, second was to surround oneself with people he could trust and rely on (that were in no way related to the organization), third was to find a means of living, and so on…

 

A barrage of images flood his mind, of laborers in the factories with their gray uniforms like track suits, the hole in the wall student accommodation that he’d seen once with living quarters half the size of his bedroom, of taking night buses and sitting by the driver’s seat on the side by the road, which would be safer than the opposite side by the streets where anyone could look up and see. That life stretches in front of him like the plank on the side of a boat, the suffocating sea rising to claim him.

 

“Is there anyone you can think of that you can go to?” Jaehyun asks.

 

Jeno bites his lip. Unlike his brother with a network of contacts around Seoul after his years in the student council in both high school and college, not to mention his friends at law school, Jeno barely has any people he considers friends who aren’t in some way affiliated with the organization. He could try finding his old track friends, but they would be in the dorms, like Jeno, and that would make it difficult to hide him. Plus his situation wouldn’t be as easy to explain to his friends, since they all know about Jeno currently attending university here, having met up last summer for a reunion dinner.

 

“Jeno.” Jaehyun leans forward to lightly pat Jeno’s knee. “If there isn’t one, then there is a place I can suggest. A professor-- you might know him, Professor Na?”

 

“...From the English department?” Jeno asks, mind conjuring images of a gangly, slightly balding man who was the professor of the Basic English class Jeno took last year.

 

“He’s… sympathetic to us. He opposed the government too, during the Gwangju uprising. There have been times when he would allow one of our members to stay with his son at their farm in Gangwon-do. The town there is small, and his son lives by himself deep in the valley. On harsh winters, I’ve heard, it’s impossible to even get to their house on foot.”

 

Gangwon-do. Jeno is only vaguely familiar with it, knowing it’s northeast from Seoul and famous for its beaches and high mountains. He’s never been outside of Seoul aside from that one trip to Busan with his family when he was in middle school.

 

“And he would allow me to stay?” Jeno asks.

 

“I’ve mentioned it to him since I wasn’t sure you would have a place in mind. He thinks that for the winter it should be fine, until we decide what to do next.”

 

It is the start of November now, so that would be four months. “Is it really alright?” Jeno can’t help asking again.

 

“Yes. He’s agreed to meet with us later today at his office, so we can work out a cover story. In the meantime, I’ll arrange for your new ID and place of residence, and you should go and pack.”

 

The briskness of Jaehyun’s demeanor surprises Jeno, but he quickly recognizes it as anxiety covered up with purpose. Unable to help himself, he catches Jaehyun’s arm and blurts out, “I’m sorry.”

 

“What is there to be sorry for? If you fail to run away properly-- be sorry then.”

 

“Thank you, then.”

 

Jaehyun huffs before hugging Jeno roughly, so quick that Jeno is unable to do anything but pause in surprise. “You’re a brother to me.”

 

Jeno nods, knowing that it is all Jaehyun would be able to say. He watches Jaehyun swallow before nodding and leaving the room. How many words has Jaehyun had to swallow down since he assumed a leadership position in the organization? Admiration and pity war inside of Jeno as he thinks of how much Jaehyun has changed. Jeno has always felt that out of all of them, Jaehyun was the most vulnerable; he stood tall to protect everyone else, but that only exposed his own neck, throat bare for all their enemies just waiting for the opportunity to cut him down.

 

Before the meeting with Professor Na, Jeno arranges his belongings and looks for Mark and Donghyuck. He wouldn’t leave the campus, so he prays he can catch them before they leave for night school. He also thinks of trying to find Renjun, but these days Renjun and the rest of the newspaper club have been camping outside of the recently burned down media building in protest, and Jeno couldn’t risk going outside.

 

He finds Donghyuck in the Arts building, but is disappointed to find out that he’s missed Mark, who left right after his lectures ended at noon. Donghyuck, however, insists that he could get Mark to come back to see Jeno anyway.

 

“There’s a senior I know who owns a pager, I just have to look for him,” Donghyuck says, dragging Jeno by the arm back into the building despite his protests.

 

“It’s fine, you don’t have to,” Jeno tries, wincing when Donghyuck squeezes his arm too hard.

 

“What do you mean “I don’t have to”? You’re leaving without a single note? After Doyoung left two months ago, I won’t have you disappearing the same way. Mark will be furious.”

 

“No, he won’t.”

 

“No, he won’t,” Donghyuck concedes, but continues to pull Jeno down the hallway. “But I will, and he’ll have to bear the brunt of it. Don’t you feel sorry for him?”

 

“Hyuck,” Jeno tugs his arm back, pulling Donghyuck into a halt. “I’m sorry.”

 

An array of emotions flash through Donghyuck’s face like a kaleidoscope. The mounting grief lasts only a second before it’s buried over other emotions, and Jeno wonders not for the first time if he should have just not befriended Donghyuck in middle school, if Donghyuck would be happier now focusing on his music without him and Mark weighing him down with all the politics, making him turn on his own father.

 

But no, Donghyuck’s always had his own principles, and Jeno’s sure that Donghyuck would have made his own stand even without Mark or Jeno there to influence him.

 

“Don’t,” he says sharply, abruptly throwing his arms around Jeno. “Just stay alive. I won’t forgive you if you don’t turn up at some point again and leave me to deal with Mark hyung for the rest of our lives.”

 

“I will,” Jeno promises, because even though he’s not one to dole out false reassurances, he does think that he’ll see his friends again. Whether by spring or later-- it will happen for sure.

 

In Professor Na’s office they come up with a fairly generic cover story with the ID and documents that Jaehyun was able to procure. He would be Professor Na’s nephew from his sister’s side, and Jaemin’s (that’s his son’s name) cousin from the city who would be staying with Jaemin for the winter. Jaemin would feign sickness and Jeno would be sent by his parents to help him. The professor has a contact at a restaurant in the village near his son who would inform him by tonight about Jeno’s arrival. It surprised Jeno to hear that Jaemin has been helping members for years now, and that Jaemin was the same age as him.

 

“He came to this university last year to study but he hated it before the first month was even over,” Professor Na explains, a rueful smile on his face. “One night he told me he would go back since city life didn’t suit him, and since I felt he was old enough to decide that, I let him go.”

 

Jeno nods, trying to imagine what his new host would be like. Being able to handle a farm all by himself with no help would be no small feat, and to do it at Jeno’s age is all the more wondrous, so he must really be impressive.

 

By twilight, Jeno is at the bus stop at the outskirts of the factory district where provincial buses frequent, his backpack stuffed with all the clothes he could fit in. The name on his ID says Kim Minjun, Kim being from the sister’s husband’s name. Jaehyun is beside him, and hands him a notebook. As Jeno flips the pages he realizes that it is a handwritten translation of the book for runaways, in Doyoung’s familiar handwriting, and he clutches it close to his chest as he thanks Jaehyun.

 

“Another thing.” Jaehyun reaches into his satchel to reveal Doyoung’s Walkman. “I got it from Doyoung’s dorm room. I thought you might want it.”

 

Jeno stares at it in disbelief. That Walkman had been the subject of quiet envy for months when Doyoung first bought it, though Jeno refused to show those feelings in front of Doyoung. He hadn’t seen it in so long, and it feels foreign and almost wrong in his hands, like he’d stolen it.

 

“Winters are long,” Jaehyun says, cutting off the protest forming on Jeno’s lips. “You’ll thank me when it’s January and it’s all you have to stave off cabin fever.”

 

Reluctantly, Jeno nods. Suddenly a pair of arms envelop him from the back and he turns around to find his mother, head wrapped in a shawl and eyes shining.

 

“Mom,” Jeno says, throat dry. “What are you doing here?”

 

“I was able to inform them before we left campus. I didn’t want to tell you in case they couldn’t make it. I instructed them not to leave until one of our members could check the surveillance situation, but it was safe,” Jaehyun explains as Jeno’s mom envelops him in her arms.

 

“You shouldn’t have risked it,” Jeno mumbles into his mom’s shoulder. Behind her is his dad, wearing a bucket hat, thick glasses misty from the cold.

 

“Stay safe,” his mom says. “Don’t think about us. We’ll manage just fine. Your brother too. Think of yourself only, and don’t skip meals when you can afford it.”

 

“I will.” Jeno breathes in her scent, the familiar combination of the citrus detergent they use at home and the perilla leaves they grow in the garden. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

 

Jeno feels the brunt of the weight hit him, stealing the breath from his lungs and weakening his knees. His parents are now childless. The family is ruined because of him.

 

His mom sniffs and wipes the tears from Jeno’s cheeks, murmuring _my son, my poor son_ again and again. His dad comes forward, hands still tucked into his rain jacket. He leans in close, the words barely exhaled from his mouth. “Good sons don’t go before their parents. You know that?”

 

Jeno gives a jerky nod, and his dad leans back and looks up to the sky for a moment, mouthing words as if in prayer. They all turn when they hear the engine of the bus as it arrives closer. Jaehyun, who was keeping a respectful distance, rests his hand on Jeno’s back and tells his parents to conceal their faces from the passengers.

 

Inside the bus, Jeno keeps his head forward as he takes the seat behind the driver’s, closest to the road. The bus begins to move, the motion startling Jeno into tipping the brim of his cap down to hide his eyes. He itches to take one last final look at his parents, but he can’t look back without having to crane his neck, and he can’t risk drawing that kind of attention from the passengers around him, so he doesn’t. Instead he rests his head against the glass, staring at the sky, the gloomy clouds heavy with the promise of rain.

**Author's Note:**

> -This was originally supposed to be a one-shot, but after stressing over condensing it I decided to just make it chaptered to give it the attention and effort it deserves.  
> -What Jeno was imagining did not happen to Doyoung (as it is revealed towards the end of the chap) but it is based on experiences of what does happen to activists who are caught.  
> -The book by the European activist is taken from the novel, though I'm not sure if Hwang made it up or if it's based on a real book. There's no mention of an author so I can't verify, sorry.  
> -Jeno's dad's line about good sons not dying before their parents do is from a documentary about the movements sparked by the Gwangju Uprising, which you can watch [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z6ycdzF1Lso)  
> -Lastly, thank you very much for reading. I promise that this is the heaviest chapter (in terms of sensitive political and human rights issues) and that next chapter when Jaemin comes, things will be brighter. If you prefer to talk on anon then you can talk to me on [cc](https://curiouscat.me/usuallyverycoffee) if you want, but remember, don't abuse the anonymity ^^


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